Baby, it’s cold outside.
Apparently, Dean Martin had a dirty mind, as d0 the millions of people who have enjoyed that song over the past 74 years. I must admit that in all the times I’ve heard that song, I never once thought “date rape” – I just always figured the girl would stand her ground and that the gentleman would acquiesce and then escort her home. After all, it’s supposed to be a love story, not a horror movie.
At least in my younger days, that’s the way it worked. I can remember being 19 and in an apartment, alone, with a male acquaintance. We had been out shopping together and when it started to pour down rain, his apartment was closer than mine, so we ducked in there. Sure, he tried a kiss, but when I refused that was the end of it. And I never worried about drinking whatever I was served. Maybe I should have worried. Maybe I was simply lucky in my naivety. At any rate, once the rain ended, my friend escorted me back to my own apartment, like a gentleman should and said goodbye on my doorstep, as I expected.
Heck, I can remember being chased around the office by a boss who wanted a kiss. I was 18, and it was his last day. He literally chased me from department to department, until eventually I found my way back to the steno pool. The steno pool supervisor was a huge, tough old broad who took no nonsense from anyone. She thought of the stenographers as part of her extended family – and no one was going to mess with one of her girls. I was safe, and the old fart skedaddled away.
The incident passed, and I never thought anything more about it until recently. After all, in those days a young woman simply learned how to avoid unwanted passes, and knew when help was needed.
Be that as it may. I didn’t intend this post to be a commentary on current events and predatory practices. My intention was merely to complain about the way everything is taken wrong these days.
“Baby’s It’s Cold Outside” is a song, only a song. Like many songs, it can have different meanings to different people. It’s impossible to please everyone.
Other songs fall into the same category. I used to love Neil Diamond’s song, “Girl, You’ll Be a Woman Soon“, but now find the lyrics and the nursery-sounding background music a little unnerving. Perhaps that song should be banned, too.
It goes beyond music. Certain fictional characters should be banned. Take, for instances, Santa Claus.
I mean, really. Santa Claus is a fat old man who goes around calling out, “Ho Ho Ho” (isn’t “ho” a derogatory term these days?), and all the little girls and boys then come and climb onto his lap, and he whispers that if they are very, very good, they will get a special treat. Perhaps the mall Santa should have the children line up six feet away and simply shout their gift wishes to him, or better yet, write their wants on a piece of paper which can then be passed to Santa by an impartial third party (preferably not a pretty young girl in an extremely short and sexy glittery outfit). Maybe the parents should sign a waiver on behalf of their children.
I think that would apply to the Easter Bunny, too. The persona of the Easter Bunny is not only politically incorrect from a predatory standpoint (kiddies on laps again), but how about animal abuse? Making a poor bunny hop from house to house hiding eggs and dropping off baskets of goodies, probably until he collapses from exhaustion? People can simply go to the store for their candy, can’t they?
I’ve heard that PETA is having a problem with many long-time sayings. I don’t wish to feed two birds with one scone – I don’t even like scones – nor do I find the term “bitches” particularly derogatory when referring to female dogs. I don’t particularly like being called a bitch by people I’ve wronged, but consider it simply their opinion. When pigs fly, I’ll take umbrage at someone else’s irrational outburst.
Meanwhile, I intend to go on saying, “Merry Christmas”; I intend to continue to listen to whatever music (Christmas or otherwise) I wish to hear, and I plan to continue using old-time sayings that seem to fit a particular situation. Heck, I may start fighting back by deliberately using politically incorrect terms. After all, there are many ways to skin a cat, sometimes it rains cats and dogs, and we all know that “Uncle” Sam is watching.
I have a headache now.
May your weekend be warm, safe, and uneventful.
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Cordelia's Mom, Still 